Fade & Flash
by x juneflower
Summary: Hibari is not waiting to be saved, he will save himself. hibari


**Fade & Flash**

* * *

Assassinations are messy things, he thinks, as he tugs on his cuffs. Hibari Kyouya was never one for messy. He liked things neat and clean and to the point. The covers will stay on the bed and the papers on the desk and the blood off his new Armani suit.

It is a routine. Step by step, left and right and left and right. He turns the corner and greets the bright city lights, leaves the alley behind him. He leaves the guns and the body and the evidence behind.

He yawns, and it is late. Hibari turns his eyes to his watch; 2:15 am. It is too late, he should be asleep by now.

So he turns another corner and flags down a taxi and he travels to some hotel in some city and he sleeps in some little bed and it is just another day, and another job.

--

He breathes, and he lets it out right after. It smells awful here, he makes a mental note to bite whoever was in charge to death.

Hibari is impatient.

He does not know why he took this job or why he was assigned to this job, or why it is always job after job after job. He is the free-floating cloud but he is chained down one way or another. He does not like this, being pinned down. Like a butterfly with a goddamn pin right through it's abdomen. Only herbivores allow themselves to be pinned down.

Hibari is not waiting to be saved, he will save himself. He refuses to drown in this muddy pool of crime and dirt and blood and smoke. He refuses to meet the eyes of his reflection, he refuses to change his way of living, he refuses to meet his fate.

Another whiff of smoke is blown his way and Hibari slams his tonfa into the perpetrator's head as he breaks his neck. Eyes roll into the back of his head, he sees white. Hibari breathes in and out and then he remembers to stop breathing.

--

"Hello," He says, with that mocking smile on his face, "Hibari Kyouya."

And mismatched eyes flash.

"What do you want."

Again he is impatient, he is always impatient. His hands and his feet itch to move, he would like to kill something. But Hibari settles for tapping his fingers on the glass coffee table. Click and clack. Tick and tock.

"Hmm," Mukuro muses, "I just wanted to have a little chat. Isn't that what friends do?"

"I am not your friend and you are not mine." Hibari grits his teeth. "Get out before I bite you to death."

Mukuro hums, "Normally you wouldn't warn me." Hibari reaches for his tonfas. Mukuro's grin widens and Hibari has no patience left so he leaps.

--

"How are you?" is the question he hates the most. Hibari hates all questions, he hates it when he is questioned, he hates questions he cannot answer and that is why he hates this particular question.

How he is cannot be summarized into a single word, much less a sentence. Hibari is a complex creature, but he does not allow himself to be analyzed. And anything longer than a word is susceptible to being analyzed so he says,

"I am fine."

--

The babies cry at night when their mothers are not around. But there are certain babies who do not cry at all, and then the mothers think there is something wrong with their child. And there are mothers who do not love their child and at the first sign of something wrong they send them off.

Send them off into blizzards and downpours and cold, cold nights alone.

--

When he first opens his eyes he sees blue all around him. Vast and deep, there is no end to it. He reaches out to feel the air around him. It's cold and it slides right by his skin.

There is nothing, nothing at all, and it is boring so he sleeps again.

The second time he opens his eyes he is in Hell and the flames are burning bright. Rising up to the ceiling and it's hot hot hot. Hibari breathes in the flames, he embraces them, because honestly, this is where he's headed.

He cannot fight death, death is the one and only opponent he will never defeat, but it does not mean he will not try.

But he does not want to try for redemption, for salvation, he does not want to live with the angels. Angels are boring, and he simply does not have any sort of patience left for anything.

He is left with his beating heart going thump thump and he doesn't know just quite how to use it. All he knows is that once it stops he will be on a one way train to this place. He is living a life with no hope.

He does not know hope either.

He wouldn't quite mind this place, he's seen it many times in his dreams, but only because somebody has shown it to him. And he looks around for this somebody, this somebody he dislikes but he needs (but denies this vehemently).

Today Rokudou Mukuro is not with him, so Hibari slowly walks off. Maybe if he walks long enough he will find the exit and he will wake up and he will head off to another job and be superhuman Hibari again.

But for now he is left following the trails of this illusionist and there are cries of 'save me' in the back of his throat which he swallows down. But pretty soon they will erupt and he will be vulnerable, and this is so completely unacceptable.

_How are you?_

I am fine.

_No really, how are you?_

I am _fine_.

_Oh, if you insist._

I do insist.

_(save me)_

_Nice weather._

It's all flames.

_Beautiful. _

_(please save me)_

No…

_It's not?_

_(I am telling you to save me)_

_(and why can't you save yourself?)_

* * *

**a/n;** hellohellothere. :) guess what? i actually like what i wrote. but in a few days i wont but let's just savor the moment. okay i have many things to say but i think i forgot them all.

first: i should have put this in my 6918 collection but... i did not because it, um, actually i dont know. but my pretend reason is that it is too vague and not necessarily 6918, yaknow. i just. it's my otp. so i. um. yeah. aldkgjalkdgj.

second: last bit, can you tell who is talking and who is not? uglakjdg VAGUE.

third: hibari is ooc like heck and it makes me cry.

fourth: i think there used to be a fourth, but i forgot that too.

fifth: i-i-i want CC! D8 please. D8 D8 D8 !!

sixth: before i thought i wrote too much 6918 so i wrote other pairings but now i am thinking that i write too little 6918 and my 6918 skills flew away so i must get them back. work work work.

seventh: THIS IS NOT ANGST, I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT CATEGORY IT IS THOUGH. D:

eighth: i will write better one day.

thank you for reading i love you have a nice day cookies?


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